


Good Time

by Ruriska



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gift, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Praise Kink, Shimadacest, Shimadacest Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriska/pseuds/Ruriska
Summary: Hanzo didn't come to this party to have a good time but he's a patient man and waiting makes the prize all the sweeter.





	Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic as part of the Shimadacest Exchange. This a gift for my **anonymous friend** and **all the Shimadacest shippers**! All of you who enjoy this pairing, who love the art and the fics, who may or may not be active in the community, all of you are amazing and wonderful and I thank you not just for the comments and kudos but for just your time in reading, maybe your thoughts that you're too shy to post, everything and anything! Thank you!

The couch is too soft.

His whole body sinks into it, as if he’s slowly being consumed. He hates it.

The room is too loud, too busy, too bright. He hates that too, far more than the couch. Enough that he would rather drown in the plush, white all-consuming pillows than get up and venture into the rest. 

He has been nursing the same drink for an hour. He is sick of holding onto it but it has become part of him now, this glass. The ice cubes completely melted, the amber liquid is washed out. Even so, he won’t relinquish this one prize.

Only one person has tried to spike it during the evening. Didn’t even try to be subtle as they swept a closed hand over his glass, fingers starting to uncurl, mouth twisted into a grin, eyes wide. They’d offered him a ‘proper good time’. He had stared them down until that grin dropped and they backed away with a nonchalant shrug, fingers closed tightly around their next hit.

Hanzo isn’t here to have a good time.

Despite his brother declaring that exact thing, had sworn up and down that if Hanzo would just come to the party, he would love it. He would have a good time, the best time. You just need to loosen up, Hanzo. Just relax, meet some people, enjoy the party.

The tenseness in his shoulders is a dull ache. It has started to travel down his back, muscles locking up.

Loosen up.

Hilarious.

It is true that he has agreed to be here, had allowed Genji to dress him up, do his hair. His brother had chattered happily the whole time, gesticulating with the hairbrush, his fingers brushing along Hanzo’s neck.

But he isn’t here for a good time.

Hanzo raises the glass to his lips, thinks better of it and lowers it again, returns it to his knee. It sits in the loose cradle of his fingers, tipped slightly. 

He doesn’t look at it. His gaze is fixed forward.

Genji is there.

There is no mistaking his placement, how he has positioned himself directly across from Hanzo, close enough to catch every detail. There is a table between them, a pointless barricade. From where he is lounging, Hanzo can even hear the sounds; the wet, needlessly loud kisses. She is making soft mewls and whether it’s from having Genji’s tongue halfway down her throat or the hand sliding down the back of her shorts, he isn’t sure. Probably both. Genji is quite talented. 

This is his third conquest of the night.

Two times Genji has wooed someone in this exact spot, eyed Hanzo across their shoulder before leading them upstairs. Even so, he hasn’t come yet. He isn’t allowed to. Every now and then he shifts his body and the woman he is with, letting Hanzo catch a good glimpse of his too tight jeans, the bulge of his erection. It must be painful.

Hanzo knows from experience that pulling Genji out of those skintight black jeans is a difficult task.

His own arousal is a slow burn. It is kindling slowly, with each heated glance they share. 

Genji is beautiful; with the dark eyeliner and green eye-shadow adding an extra layer of allure, with those plump and shiny lips, it is if a siren beckoning him. 

Genji has moved onto her neck.

He is sucking at her skin, no doubt leaving marks, and she is melting entirely, her legs losing strength. Hanzo watches as she clutches at Genji’s shoulders and arms, fingers curling around muscles that she really has no right to be touching.

Hanzo catches the chuckle that rumbles from his brother, deep and resonant. 

With one easy move, he picks her up in his arms, as if she weighs nothing at all.

He has to put in some effort when he does that to Hanzo. He always grunts, adjusting to the extra weight. There’s almost always a wall or table handy to help with support. 

Jealousy coils darkly in Hanzo’s gut as Genji starts to carry her away, his face turned slightly, flushed and needy, looking to meet Hanzo’s gaze. Their eyes meet. Hanzo lifts his glass and smiles. There’s a promise there. He watches Genji shiver. It runs through him from head to toe. His eyes go slightly glassy. 

Then he is gone.

With his little plaything, up the stairs and to the nearest bedroom. She’ll have a good time. Genji will give her that. Then he will return to the party unsatisfied, body overheated, desperate, cock aching. 

Hanzo will wait.

He isn’t here to have a good time.

Not yet. 

___

“Did you have fun, Genji?” Hanzo asks. “Did you have a _good time_?” He accentuates the last two words, gives them power as he breathes them into Genji’s ear. His brother quivers.

They’ve made it as far as the bathroom.

Genji’s back sheens with sweat and Hanzo runs his hand casually across the tensed muscles. His brother is bent over the marble counter, legs spread, ass out in offering. The jeans are proving to be as difficult as always and so Hanzo has opted to leave them on, despite his brother’s protests.

“How many was it in the end? Four? I liked the last one. He was so eager. He would have sucked your cock right there in front of everyone, if you’d let him.” Hanzo sways against his brother, presses himself against his brother’s ass, nearly hisses at the contact. He bites back the sound.

Genji doesn’t bother with any pretence. He whines, arches his back, begging.

“I didn’t- I didn’t let him,” Genji croaks out. His tone is so hopeful, asking for praise. 

Hanzo gives it. 

“Of course you didn’t.” He lets his hips jerk forward, grunts softly at the friction it provides. “But you wanted to.” 

Genji’s fingers are white where they are holding onto the counter. His head is dipped forward, hair damp with sweat and probably cum. Hanzo leans in closer, covers his body with his own in order to plant a lingering kiss on his neck. 

“You’ve done well, Genji.”

His brother shudders.

That’s all he ever wants to hear.

It’s sweet.

“Hanzo, please, I-”

Hanzo shushes him, kisses the space between his shoulder blades, runs his hands down his sides, tracing each rib, each muscle. “I understand. I’ve got you.”

He lets Genji hold his weight, relaxes against him and trails a hand around to the front of Genji’s jeans, where his brother’s erection is trapped. Genji curses when Hanzo finally starts to undo the buttons, pulls the fly down and eases him free. He thinks his brother might cry, judging by the shuddering exhale. 

He takes him in his hand, it is all familiar, the weight, the veins along the side he can trace with his fingers. They have no lubricant, just their combined sweat but Hanzo isn’t going fast enough for it to be necessary. He is merely fondly, feeling, teasing with the pressure of his thumb.

“You only get to come when I tell you to,” Hanzo tells him, voice thick with need. 

Genji nods, little desperate jerks of his head.

Hanzo bites him then, marks his possession in the crook of his neck. They called his brother a slut, let him jerk them off, lick their messy little cunts, pump cum across his pretty face. But they were never allowed this. Only Hanzo was allowed to bring him release, then fill him up, make him scream.

Genji is so tightly wound up, has been waiting for hours, that Hanzo barely needs to do a thing. All he really does is give permission. 

“Now, darling. It’s your turn.”

His grip tightens, his twists his wrist slightly, adds enough pressure that Genji jolts. 

His brother’s body convulses beneath him, back arches and Hanzo drinks in every sound, every broken ‘aaah, ah, ungh’. He holds him through his orgasm, one arm wrapped around his waist and his hand still clutching his cock, feeling each twitch and spasm.

“Good boy, that’s it, let it out.”

“Hanzoooo,” Genji moans out his name and Hanzo is forced to shift back, to stop the press of Genji’s ass against his crotch before it tips him over the edge. Not yet. Not like this.

But it will be Hanzo’s turn soon.

Only then will he truly relax, loosen up, enjoy.

Then he’ll have his own good time.


End file.
